I love this picture. Not because of the peanut butter all over, well everything. Look at his hands. It just cracks me up that he finished his food and just sat there with hands crossed.
That is the question. Ok not really, that WAS the question, back when school started and I first thought to post about our moving dilemma. But whereas last years marker was tired, this year’s marker is busy. Even though this whole kid thing seems to be getting easier in one regard, it’s getting crazy hectic in another. Our schedules are whacked and the kids aren’t even involved in a million thing yet (not that I’ll sanction a million, but I’m sure they’ll be some). But back to the point.
We’re moving, at least we are planning and hoping and praying to. We’ve got our condo up for rent and have been showing it for the last few weeks. As soon as that’s taken care of, off to Lake Nona we’ll go. It should be a good move, we both feel it’s the right move, being that close to work will make family time more of a reality again. That’s the reason, and I have to keep reminding myself of, ’cause I really don’t want to move.
I mean I do want to, I want my time back, I want to see my kids more, I want to see my husband more, and I want to stop commuting to work and back. But really I’d rather move work to me. I love my home and I love the area we live in. The more we think, talk and act toward moving to the ‘burbs, the more I realize I am city girl, through and through. I like crazy, noisy, hectic, congested living. I actually enjoy the fact that our neighbors blare their spanish music so loud it’s like I’m listening to it myself when I’m in my backyard. They’ve got good taste, Shakira one song Linkin Park the next, I mean what are the odds? That just rocks. I enjoy having every type of shopping I may need in a 2 mi radius of my home. We have not just one, but two good, cheap, fresh produce markets within 1 mi, and a dance studio right up the street! There are five parks within a 10 minute drive and one within walking distance. I love our simple, little place. I love how easy it makes keeping track of my little destroyers. I love how easy it is to clean. I love the low electric bills. I love how it keeps our junk, I mean stuff, to a minimum. I love just about everything about it. So I’ve been mourning our home since we made the decision.
But once we move, mourning will be over. I’m sure I’ll have my moments, but I’m also sure I can and will find things to love about our new place. It just doesn’t exist yet. I actually do like change, I just like for it to happen as soon as the decision has been made. I’m not a big fan of the in between time. Decide, then do. That’s what I like. I don’t have the patience for much limbo.
We had more potential renters come by yesterday, and boy were they some of the eagerest people I’d ever met. They literally walked in the door and said we’ll take it, I’m still not sure I believe them. It seems to easy. But if they do check out, I may just get my wish, no between time. Is it possible to plan and execute a move from start to finish in two weeks time? I may just find out.
Most would say band-aids and boo boos go together like texting and teenagers or love and marriage or some other trite over used saying we are all so ‘fond’ of. The conversation came up at the office today as a co-worker was showing pictures of his daughter’s new Rockyesque look. Some one brought up that band aids will make it all better, and then I realized yet again, my kids are from a different planet.
They’ve hated car seats, when ALL other babies seem to just slumber away in the car. The last two have been no goes on swings as babies, that I just totally can’t understand. And so far Jena and Grant (have not tried Jacob, but he’s been remarkably less accident prone, I think it’s ’cause he’s a late bloomer) hate band-aids. This is not a mild dislike, a tolerance without the normal fun associated, I mean they hate them.
Jena got a boo boo last week and I offered her a fun band-aid to make it better and the screams that ensued were worse the than original fall created. Through her sobs I heard over and over ‘I NO WANT A BAND AID!’ In fact, I will admit, occassionally, I have stooped to threatening a band aid when a particular accident fall out has been especially bad. After that a simple ‘stop crying and no band-aid,’ and we’re all better again. It’s low, I know.
Today was one of my days to pick up Grant and I noticed as I grabbed his folder at the door they had learned something about band-aids today. He had a nice picture of a scrapped up knee with a real live band-aid stuck to it. ‘Band aids make my boo boos better!’ was the nice propaganda written on the top of the page. I was partially amused having had the conversation at work not 15 minutes before, and partially curious as to how far this had gotten into my kid’s head.
As we drove home Grant is telling me of all sorts of things. He eventually lands on the two boo boos he got at school today. Apparently some kid on the play ground ran his head into Grant’s nose while both were running around and at least my kid had his eyes closed, boys. He also had an impressive scratch on his knee from a chair. Thinking this was the perfect set up, (earlier he’d told me a nurse talked to them at school today too, then the knee picture, on the way home to a closet well stocked with awesome band aids) I suggested maybe a band-aid would help it.
He then proceeded to take the next 5 minutes to explain in full 4 year old detail why there was absolutely NO REASON this boo boo needed a band-aid. He assured me over and over he was fine and it would get better all on it’s own, just see, he tells me. And there was not a lot of skin on it, maybe the next one will have a lot of skin, for me, and then maybe, he will need a band-aid, for that next one, maybe.
I’m still somewhat disappointed that all those awesome band aids I got such an awesome deal on are still in their box in my closet, but I’m also gratified that my kid doesn’t just buy everything he hears. That trait has a tendency to drive me nuts when I’m the one trying to tell him stuff, but I think it will serve him well in the long run.
Sorry band-aids, you’re going to have to try harder if you want to win my kid over.
The other night I was sleeping on the couch, let me pause for minute. No I was not in the dog house, no I was not physically separating myself from my husband, there was no fighting, arguing or anything like that going on. I don’t really remember what was going on, but it probably had more to do with Jacob being a bed hog and the couch bed already being made into a bed, probably.
So anyway, I was sleeping on the couch and I vaguely hear Jacob wake up, one of the dream like wakings, where you’re not really sure what’s going on. I didn’t get up, I was a bit disoriented, and all of a sudden I look up and there’s Neil, standing at the side of couch holding Jacob.
Neil: he needs the special stuff
Neil: the special stuff Joy, from the special pages.
Me: pages? webpages? what are you talking about?
Neil: the special pages, the special pages!
Somehow we all ended up back in bed and Jacob nursed and went back to sleep. The next morning when I woke up I got a good laugh out of our midnight delirium. I think my husband’s been working a little too hard on the online development portion of his job, either that or I’ve developed some special pages I’m unaware of…